Starfire (Peaches Monroe #3)(83)
Author: Mimi Strong

I shook my head. “This is really over-the-top dramatic, even for Dalton.”

My father jogged up to my side, his cheeks flushed.

“That’s our cue,” he said.

“You knew?”

“Not the specifics, but I was told there’d be a cue, and I’m fairly certain this is it. I’m sure they’ll start the music any minute.”

Shayla quickly flipped the veil down over my face, then ran off to the lakeside, where she joined the rest of the wedding party at the altar.

The man in the parachute touched down on dry land nearby, and Connor rushed over to help him out of the harness. From where I stood, I could tell it was either Dalton or a very convincing stand-in.

Meanwhile, the plane, presumably piloted by Vern, came in for a less dramatic landing.

Once the plane’s engine turned off, the lakeside location seemed more tranquil than ever in the ensuing hush.

The entire forest seemed to be watching, holding its breath, waiting.

Dalton took his place at the edge of the water, with the others.

Something brushed my bare arm. I looked down in wonder as my father linked his arm with mine, and tugged me toward the carpet laid out down the aisle. The music was already playing. The bridal march.

I forgot how to walk, stumbling forward only to keep from falling down. My feet found their places, one in front of the other.

Everything moved around me in streaks of color.

I took my place next to Dalton, avoiding eye contact while the officiant began the ceremony.

I nodded along, then repeated my parts after the officiant. My vows were simple, the boilerplate standard stuff about loving, honoring, and cherishing.

Something I said set off Dalton’s smirk, which was impossible to miss, even out of the corner of my eye.

I expected him to have more elaborate vows than mine, but he repeated the standard stuff, with no sign of the stuff I’d seen on his fax.

Kyle marched up perfectly and presented the green ring on a pillow, which Dalton slipped onto my finger.

The officiant announced that we were now wed, and gave Dalton permission to kiss me.

He flipped up my veil as I turned to face him. His smirking expression said that he planned to do a whole lot more than kiss me, but there was something else there, too. Love?

“Peaches,” he said.

“Yes?”

Out of the edge of my vision, I noticed the entire assembly of guests lean forward on their rented chairs, straining to listen.

“Did you happen to see my parachute?” he asked.

“Did you happen to get an invitation with the starting time on it?”

A chorus of laughter rippled across our audience.

He grinned. “Sorry I kept you waiting.”

“I don’t mind waiting, but if you can’t send me a text message, I have to assume your fingers are broken, or soon will be.”

He got down on one knee in front of me. Everyone buzzed with confusion. “Attention, everyone!” he called out. “I know I’m doing things backwards, but you should know I screwed up my proposal, and don’t you think Peaches deserves a beautiful proposal, even if it’s at the wedding altar?”

Everyone cheered.

CHAPTER 43

Dalton turned back to me, gazing up with those gorgeous eyes of his—gorgeous not because of the particular shade of green, but because of the adoring, amused way he looked at me.

The sun was setting now, and the trees and lake were cast in a warm glow, almost unreal against the darkening sky.

“Peaches, I’m not good with words. Not unless someone else writes them out for me.”

“Oh, Dalton. Words don’t matter. Only actions.”

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out something tiny, which he clutched in his fist.

“Miss Monroe, you’ve opened your heart to me, and, like a fool, I fell right in. When I’m with you, I can hardly catch my breath, much less my balance. I’m always falling, every time you look at me, every time you touch me. And now I’m utterly, helplessly in love.” He held out his fist and unfurled his fingers. “Will you do me the honor of accepting this BFD, and being my wife? I love you so much, and I plan to love you more and more, every day.”

Off in the distance, one frog called out to his friends.

“Well?” Dalton asked.

Tears welled up in my eyes. I could scarcely breathe.

Fanning my face with one hand, I said, “Yes, of course I will marry you. I already did, but if you want me to, I’ll keep marrying you every day.”

“Nothing would make me happier.”

He took my left hand, slid off the green, plastic ring, and replaced it with the new one, plus a slim band that fit alongside it. My Big Fucking Diamond gleamed in the golden light, but it was nothing compared to the fire I felt in my heart.

Dalton got to his feet. Amidst cheers from everyone, he wrapped his arm around my back and pulled me in for a tender, gentle kiss.

The photographer darted closer, snapping pictures of our kiss.

I started to pull away, content that we’d gotten the shots, but Dalton seized me and spun me around so I was hidden from the camera by his body.

“This one’s not for show.” He grabbed me tightly, his hands down on my hips, and he kissed me ferociously, just the way I wanted.

~

The rest of the wedding was as perfect as any girl could wish for.

My mother insisted she hadn’t cried during the ceremony, but her mascara told another story. My father said he couldn’t have been more proud, and that seeing how happy Dalton made me was all the proof he needed. Then he hugged me and wandered off to go show Kyle the airplane by the dock.

All the family who’d been at Marita’s wedding was there, and half of them were insisting that they’d “known it wouldn’t be long,” just from seeing Dalton dancing with me at that wedding.

After the sun went down, Vern got the projection screen unfurled between two of the bigger trees, and images of both me and Dalton as children ran as a slideshow. Sometimes the image was just one of us, filling the screen, and other times it was a split screen with a theme, such as both of us dressed as pumpkins for Halloween.

One photo in particular, though, made me smile.

Dalton was lying on someone’s living room floor, covered in a mountain of pillows and cushions. A round-cheeked, round-bodied, happy-looking girl with brunette pigtails sat atop the mountain.

His story about the neighbor, Chelsea, was real. He hadn’t made her up after all. I wished I’d known sooner, but then again, all those little doubts were beautiful in their own way, because they made me look deeper into my heart.